User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Redwall Wars: A Deadly Turn/@comment-2246928-20150410011620

Virago, the surly female weasel who often served as Cawn's replacement whenever he was unavailable, strolled down the stairs, her otterleather whip coiled in her paw.

She glanced over the lines of slaves, pacing slowly down the rows with a look of cold apathy on her grim, sharp face. A Grath's Arrow vole muttered something a few seats ahead to his comrade, and Virago stumped up, seizing his head by the fur and wrenching it painfully back as he squealed in pain. She growled at him, smashing his head forwards and releasing the vole, who was rubbing his head and grimacing.

"Shut up." Virago's eyes glittered as they moved to survey the rest of the slaves, her claws digging into the whip handle as she gave them a stern look. Her curious accent rang throughout the lower galley as she spoke, her yellowed fangs flashing.

"All of you shut up. I'd radder not vear out dis vhip, so if you're quiet ond orderly, I'll be de nize slaver overlort, der opposite of Cawn. Oddervise I'll follow his example. Onderstand? Gutt! Now pull dose oars!"